


Snapshots

by missema



Series: In Modern Kirkwall [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alphabet Challenge, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/M, Married Couple, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 17,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of alphabetical drabbles set post At the Viscount's Keep.  These are told from both the POV of Nori Hawke and Bran.</p><p>This is set in Modern Kirkwall, a political AU with a Female Hawke protagonist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Anderfels

Nori was twenty-two years old when she visits the barren land of the Anderfels, the vast northern country that remains, even after generations of aid, the poorest country in Thedas.  She remembers it being oppressively hot, that the whole of her trip to Hossberg she felt as if she were covered in sticky dust that never came off, even when she showered, the feeling of grit everywhere, tiny granules of sand between her teeth at the end of the day.  Pictures only reinforce the memory, her black hair is coated in a grainy layer of sand that dulls the sheen and makes it look lighter, almost like a dark brown.  
  
It was summer, the summer before she was to go to graduate school and she's traveling around Thedas.  Her father encouraged her to take this trip, though she's hardly been home in the last few years, since getting her undergraduate degree in Ferelden.  The city pulses with an energy that she's never felt, impossible to replicate.  There are people everywhere, speaking in their thick, laborious tongue, going in and out of the tiny, dilapidated, old houses that line the city center.  It's nothing like Ferelden or even Kirkwall in looks but is a flower in the desert, a city rising up out of vast plains of nothingness around it to become a center of life.  
  
There is a boy, small and sickly looking, his pale hair and skin much more common in places to the south of the Anderfels and Nori wonders where his parents were from originally.  He's dancing, trying to earn money from the crowd in the street, his tiny feet skipping to music only he can hear.  
  
"Don't give them anything."  The guide tells her group.  "Otherwise they won't leave you alone for the whole trip."  He adds in a harsh tone, before he turns away.  
  
But Nori keeps watching, the blond boy in rags dancing a jig for a few silvers.  A man in expensive sunglasses throws in a sovereign note and the boy stops dancing, walking over to the bucket that held his cash and gave the man change.  He won't accept charity.  
  
When he returns he does a flip, his small face beaming out at the crowd.  He's won them over now, Nori included, her heart swelling at the sight of his smile.  She snaps her picture just in time, though it comes out a little crooked and the lens flares in the background, she captures his face with the large grin spread across it.  Before she leaves, she dumps all of her change into his bucket and walks away before he notices.  
  
"Where was that?"  Bran asked, pointing at the picture she's no longer looking at.  She shakes her head ever so slightly, remembering that she's at their dining room table packing boxes once again to move.   
  
"Hossberg.  He was dancing for the crowds."  
  
"Desolate place, but I've always liked it."  Bran answered, studying the picture.  "But there's so much poverty and the Anderfels still have so much political strife.  Terrible cheese too."  
  
She laughs at the joke but his words stick in her mind.  He'd liked it, though she had no idea when he'd visited, probably long before they'd even really met.  But she liked it too, and it made her smile to remember.  The Anderfels, full of proud, fierce people that refused to be defined by their relative poverty.  The picture made her want to go back, even though she was sure that in the seven years that had passed since it was taken, that boy was no longer a child, charming the crowds with effusive laughter and dances.  Maybe she'd go back soon.


	2. B is for Blackcurrant

When he wakes up in the morning, she's already gone from his side.  Before, Bran was always the one that woke up early, used to long days and short nights of sleep, but since he stopped working, he's sleeping later and later every day.  
  
If this is what retirement is like, he'll take it.  Laziness doesn't really suit him, but it's novel after so many years of constant work.  It wasn't any wonder he'd fallen in love with someone from work - he never really had time to go anywhere else.  
  
Nori is probably working, writing her book.  She had already written a good portion of it before they left office, but he hasn't seen it yet.  He only knows because he's seen the huge saved files on the desktop computer they share.  Since they've been home together she's come to prefer writing at the bigger computer, but sometimes he sees her using her laptop when she wants a change of venue.  He only uses the desktop it to play games; Bran's found that he's more of a computer gamer than his wife, a relic from a time when he used to play simple games instead of studying for law school, fifteen years prior.    
  
Since he's been out of work, he's been playing more often, which Nori allows with heaving sighs of amused exasperation, emailing her document to herself to work on his laptop while he plays fighting games, and sometimes RPGs.  
  
Heading into the bathroom, he knows he won't find her in there.  The steam from the bath is long evaporated, but it still smells like the blackcurrant and roses that she loves.  Blackcurrant everything.  Roses too, she loved the smell of roses and blackcurrant mixed and he's come in more than once to find her burning candles that smell like it.  But blackcurrant jam invaded their pantry, jars and jars of it, the dark mixture spread on crackers and toast.  She loves it.  
  
He never really gave it much thought until she moved in with him, but he doesn't mind it, preferring it to grape anything.  It's just another thing that reminds him of her, and that's the thing he really loves about it.  
  
Forgoing a shower, he walks around in his flannel pajamas looking for Nori.  When he peeks his head into the messy office, expecting her to be behind the computer, he's disappointed.  Continuing down the stairs, Bran deftly steps around the boxes that litter their space, holding possessions that are to be moved into another house, Marlowe's family house, now given to them.  It's still not ready, but Nori claims she's decluttering, throwing things out and boxing up others in an effort to be more tidy.  The mess irks him, it's anything but tidy, but Bran says nothing and lets her continue her project.  
  
She's not in the living room either, the television silent as he walked past it.  When he finally finds her, she's in the kitchen.  Clad in lumpy velour pants and one of his sweaters, with her dark hair tied back into a messy knot, her laptop is open on the island and her abandoned barstool nearby.  When he glances at the screen, he sees her game of solitaire and chuckles a little to himself.  She's standing there, making tea, and he thinks she looks more beautiful than he's ever seen her.  When he kisses her good morning, he can taste the blackcurrant jam she'd had for breakfast and it's oddly comforting, bringing a smile to his face.


	3. C is for Campus

She was distracted as she squinted at a sign, trying to figure out what building she was standing in front of on the University campus.  Though there were months to go before she started her Ph.D. program, Nori was taking a walk around, getting to know the place.  She'd never attended school in the place where she'd grown up, preferring to go to Ferelden for undergrad, then off to Nevarra for grad school, with a semester in Orlais.  It had seemed so promising, so exciting to go to new places, learn new things.  
  
The University at Kirkwall had always been a safety school.  Backup.  Just in case.  She'd planned to spend her life away from Kirkwall and out of her father's shadow.  At least, that was how the story went when she was eighteen.  But here she was almost twelve years later, settled in Kirkwall with her husband, getting the last degree that her field offered.  It was _a terminus degree that would make her a universally recognized expert in Public Administration_ , or so the admissions office had told her when she'd met with them.  The thought of her being an expert made her laugh, a tiny giggle escaping her cold lips as a young man with a dirty backpack walked by her.  
  
"On your left."  Someone yelled out and she moved just in time, a bike came whizzing past her, the rider splashing slush onto her boots as he did.  
  
It made her feel old, the whole campus, boards posted for clubs with strange names, flyers for bands she'd never heard of.  Nori didn't often feel out of place, even when she was the focus of attention, but someone this campus made her feel more awkward than when her mother asked her about her sex life with Bran.  The cold wind whipped around her and another co-ed in a fuzzy parka stomped past her, blond highlighted hair peaking out from under her fur-trimmed hood.  She remembered being eighteen, nineteen, even twenty-two, and it didn't seem like that long ago.  But it felt like an age had passed between her life then and now.  How was she to reconcile the difference she felt within?  Nori was stuck between, her life someplace so far removed from where she'd been when she'd gotten her master's degree.  
  
Nori was nearly thirty years old, married and was trying to get pregnant.  The circumstances of her life seemed incongruous, so out of place when she looked around at the people scurrying past.  She wondered if she could get used to this life again, caring about books and papers instead of legislation and administration.  Though she'd loved her job, it was over, and she missed it, missed the stress and bustle of everyday, calling forth her knowledge to make changes.  Study was required by her job, but it was never like it had been at school, nothing like seeking the answers out of a book, but she'd always enjoyed both work and school.  They were so similar, yet worlds apart, like the difference between studying and practical application.  It had been years since she'd done the education part, and it felt foreign and strange now.  Whatever had made her think that she could go back to school again?  
  
Maybe she was just in the wrong part of campus, but she couldn't figure out where exactly she was.  All the buildings looked like every building in this part of Kirkwall, grey stone with ivy covering it.  Looking down the path she'd just come, Nori decided to press forward instead of retracing her steps, figuring she would find her way out eventually.  That was how it always went.


	4. D is for Deadline

"How long have you been up?"  Bran asked Nori, up and dressed for work.  
  
"Um, I'm not sure."  She answers, looking over at the clock.  "Does it matter?"  
  
He shakes his head at her, but doesn't answer.  She has chapters that are due to her publisher this week and things aren't going well.  It's the first deadline that's she's had and though they are written, she's scrambling to get them into something resembling what she'd pitched.  There seem to be too many words, stories all piled upon stories, thoughts abandoned, and nothing made any sense the more she looked at it.  Bran leaned over her, kissing her goodbye reluctantly.  His new job has been fine, but he grew comfortable in his time off, joking that he was going to start working from home.  
  
Maker forbid.  
  
Part of her was glad to see Bran going, relieved that he'll be out of the house for hours.  He's a distraction, not for any of the normal reasons, he's not overly loud or even in her way at all.  If requested, he can disappear into his darkroom for hours, working on the rolls of film he took from Lenora Mecklinberg's house, or developing things of his own.  
  
No, the problem lies in that she _knows_ he's there, she's always aware of him when he's in the house with her.  And that in itself, is the biggest distraction.  At any given time, large parts of her want to abandon the work she's so diligently been doing, to go watch him cook dinner, or sit in his arms as he watches daytime television, yelling back at the screen until he frustrated himself and then firmly deciding that he can do without it in his life, until he's bored again.  She honestly didn't mind him kicking her off the computer to play games, and part of her found it adorable to see his face scrunched in concentration as he figured things out.  
  
But over head is the noose of the deadline, always in her head as she wasted time, even when she was aware that she needed a break.  Time away felt slightly tainted, her work creeping into her mind, stealing some of the warmth from the hugs and kisses Bran so freely gave.  
  
That evening when he comes home she's passed out in bed, her hair messier than he's ever seen and she's still wearing her pajamas from the night before.  He's careful not to disturb her, but she starts awake when he sits down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Did you finish?"  He asked cautiously, unsure of her mood.  He was careful not to anger her if this was just a break.  An offhand remark could ignite her temper and cause a fight Bran didn't want to get into.  
  
"Yeah sometime this afternoon.  I sent it off to the editor finally."  Nori's voice is exhausted and croaky, but it sounds happy, making Bran smile as he pulls off his silk necktie.  One hand reaches over to pat her in a comforting way, and he's about to tell her how proud he is of her work, but she's already gone back to sleep, her breathing deep and even.


	5. E is for Edit

He did own digital cameras, and from time to time used them, but for the most part, Bran preferred film.  It was how he'd gotten to learn photography, and although he was aware he was very nearly a relic, he did like the process, the feeling of being in his darkroom.  There was something calming about the whole process from loading the film in a camera, to taking the shot and then really bringing it to life, working in the completely still darkness.  
  
Film had a special place in his heart, it had become his artistic refuge during several trying periods of his life.  A younger, more sullen and lonely teenaged Bran had been given a camera by his creative mother, an attempt to draw him out.  Adolescence hadn't been difficult for him but rather just very lonely.  There were never bullies he couldn't buy off, but he wasn't athletic or so creative that it drew people to him.  His mother had been right, photography did draw him out, made him bolder and gave him sorely needed confidence, but only because he found he had a natural talent for composition.  
  
And because he'd started taking photographs of naked girls.  
  
It was true, he'd started off his career as a budding pornographer, but it taught him to appreciate figure and form in later years.  His father had blown up spectacularly when he'd found out, Bran had been caught slinking around a disused building with a topless girl, but his mother had been more understanding.  It dampened his enthusiasm a little when he found out that his mother had posed as a figure model, but Bran gallantly pushed the thought aside in favor of photographing the most interesting thing in his life at that point - breasts.  
  
Nori had never let him take a nude photo of her, no matter how he argued the artistic side of it.  She was the daughter of a famous politician, and she'd learned her lesson about the permanency of photos in college.  It was a shame - she'd look stunning in a crisp black and white.  At least he didn't have to worry about Carver finding salacious images of his sister on his computer, or worse, on a random roll of negatives hanging out to dry.  
  
Carver had volunteered to give Bran a crash course in digital editing with more powerful software than the sad basic ones that he'd used with middling interest, in exchange for an introduction to film developing.  He doubted that Carver would trade in his digital camera for 35mm anytime soon, but there was no harm in knowing the way around a darkroom.  They'd develop Carver's negatives, but he'd let them hang to harden before trying to show him how to make prints.  
  
"Did you install the program?"  Carver asked, stomping into the office with a camera bag slung over his shoulder.  Bran hadn't heard him come in, and looked over his shoulder for Nori, but she wasn't there.  Back working on her book, or either napping, she'd been sleeping a lot more recently.  
  
"I even tried to use it, but I had no idea what I was doing."  
  
"It's like that at first, it all looks like it should be in some science lab and not making art.  But it's not too bad once you get the hang of it."  Carver said, sitting down next to Bran in front of the computer.  He opened up the file named pictures, looking over ones to work with.  
  
"What camera did you take?"  He'd lent him a camera a few weeks ago, but in all the rush at work, he didn't remember which one.  
  
"The Leica R7.  It had a good weight, felt right when I held it.  It's strange not being able to see the picture right after you take the it.  I'm so used to digital...you have a creepy amount of pictures of my sister sleeping."  Carver said, laughing a little as he continued clicking on the library of pictures.  "But then again, I guess I look like Merrill's stalker or something if you forget that we live together."  His dark eyebrows furrowed at the idea, but then his face cleared, and he laughed again.  "Come on, I want to get to my pictures before too long."  
  
In just that moment, Carver didn't seem so strange, and Bran relaxed, beginning to enjoy himself.


	6. F is for Feast

"Are you sure you want me to do it, instead of Leandra?"  Bran asked Marlowe on the phone.  
  
"Positive.  While she's great, you know me better, and it's my damn Name Day, what I say goes."  The former Viscount said into the phone, his voice adamant over the line.  
  
"Alright, don't have a stoke, old man.  I'll bring everything."  Bran said, ready to hang up the phone.  "Don't expect any gifts after this."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it."  Marlowe replied in a snippy tone, knowing that Bran would get him a gift anyway.  
  
It took days of preparation and effort.  Bran sat alone in the kitchen, the low hum of the electronic equipment bringing him to a zen-like place as he looked over recipes, gathering his thoughts.  
  
"Are you sure I can't help?"  Nori asked.  "I know I'm not good for actual cooking, but I can follow your instructions."   
  
"No, nothing right now."  He said, but planted a tender kiss on the inside of her hand.  The smooth skin of her palm and the smell of soap and lotion on her hands was almost an aphrodisiac and he had to remind himself of his task.  "Maybe once I get going."  
  
He bought the ingredients for feast, the kind his father had made for holidays when he was growing up, these kinds of meals a tradition in his side of the family.  It was what he'd call a proper meal, though it was more than extravagant to have this type of thing for a simple meal.  There were multiple courses, served in large portions, each course somehow related to the next.  Naturally there would be wine, and as the meal went on there would be enough wine and food to make everyone go from pleasant to comatose in no time.  
  
It would take a huge effort, but he didn't do this often.  He had planned on doing it for Nori at least once, but they'd never really found the time or occasion, she preferring her Name Day's quiet and private.  It was simply too much for two people, and he'd wondered if he'd ever have a chance to show her one of the greatest traditions of his family, one of the few things he and his father had in common.  
  
Specialty stores were visited, spices and cheese ordered, expensive cuts of meat delivered.  Night after night, Bran would return home from the office, and commence truly working, meticulously looking over his lists of items, seeing what else he needed to do, keeping things on a schedule.  The freezer was packed full of food in various states of readiness, and he'd cleaned out everything he'd need to haul it all to Leandra's house and prepare it on the day.  She'd given him a key, so he could come in the early hours of the morning, start the dinner that would take nearly twelve hours to prepare in full.  
  
"How many people are coming?"  
  
"Me, You, Jason, Nori, Leandra, and the rest of her kids."  Marlowe informed him.    
  
"You aren't hosting it, are you?"  Bran asked, hoping that they wouldn't be trapped in Marlowe's condo.  
  
"No, it's at Leandra's.  You should tell her to clear out her kitchen."  
  
Bran called his mother-in-law next, and they had an in depth discussion about everything from wine and utensils to sleeping arrangements.  There would be no getting up and going home after a meal like this.  Leandra had taken notes, avidly listening to him describe the meal he had planned, making sure she had all the little things he'd need, extra spices and plenty of bowls to store leftovers in.  There would definitely be leftovers.  
  
On the day of Bran and Nori arrived early in the morning, Bran lifting out coolers of food and boxes laden with tools and utensils.  Nori carried a shopping bag in each hand, the hood to her sweatshirt pulled up over her head.  Leandra sighed, looking at her daughter slump towards her.  Nori was so dramatic sometimes, she wondered how Bran put up with it.  
  
Carver woke up and headed straight downstairs, the scents wafting up from the kitchen in a delicious symphony of half-done delights.  Nori moped in a corner, idly whisking into a bowl while Bran flew, asking questions and reading recipes while checking on the status of multiple dishes, adding ingredients and setting aside dishes that need to set or rise.  Salivating, he went back upstairs content to just eat a bland breakfast of cereal.  He could wait for the main event, if Bran was already cooking.  
  
When Marlowe arrived hours later, Nori had napped and come back to actually help, but Bran was winding down.  When it was time for dinner, Nori and Leandra served it, and a freshly showered Bran sat back in his seat, tired after the day of work.  The dry, sparkling white wine aperitif coursing straight through his exhausted body.  Two large platters of antipasto, one warm and the other cold were set down on the table, and he roused himself, knowing that he had minutes before he'd have to go back to the kitchen and put the finishing touches on the main dish, but before he did he raised his glass.  
  
"Happy Name Day, Marlowe."  He began, toasting his friend.


	7. G is for Graduate

"The new house is nearly finished.  We're still moving, but it's a little slower than we'd anticipated."  Bran admitted to his son Jason, over the phone the weekend before Jason was to graduate.  
  
"Do you mind if I move my stuff in while you're moving out?"  Jason asked.  
  
"It might be a little confusing, but I'm sure we can manage it."  His father insisted, wanting Jason to feel comfortable.  
  
Bran tried to organize and coordinate everything but the townhouse became a crowded mess of boxes, a maze they navigated through just to live.  It was ironic that he was technically living with his son, the delay on their house unexpected and poorly timed.  Jason didn't mind, he liked the company and was a little at a loss once school ended, the consistent social circle vaporizing within days of classes ending.  His graduation came and went, feted by all of his family, with his mother and Nori formally meeting for the first time, Nori much less interested in Jane than his mother was in her.  Jason had a job lined up as a physical therapist, to start in a month, giving him time to relax before entering the crushing routine of work.    
  
"I promise we'll get some movers to take some of it over soon."  Nori told Jason, a little amused that the three of them had so much stuff.    
  
Being a graduate was a lot less glamorous than it had seemed from the other side.  Staying in the house with his dad and Nori (it felt too odd to call her his stepmother), he cleaned and tried to keep his things separate, lest it get moved again on accident.  There wasn't much for him to do all day, and he found himself sleeping and moving languidly, the heat of the summer creeping into Kirkwall and the rest needed after his fervid week of final exams, graduation and saying goodbye to friends.  He rather liked being in the house where he was going to live, even if it was in a terrible state, a hurricane of possessions strewn everywhere.  
  
It wasn't difficult, living with all the boxes, the miscellaneous furniture and piles of books all over, even though the path through the house changed each day, finally getting bigger once Nori enlisted him and his car to help her cart away some things, unable to work with the mess cluttering the house.  Following in her car, the two of them took enough in one trip to make the living room feel almost presentable again.  He could see why it bothered her, even stuck in her office.  She was doing revisions, and was prone to fits of cleaning when she needed to get up.    
  
No, the worst part about living with his father and new wife as they moved was that his father was still very much a newlywed.  It was bad enough that he could hear them sometimes at night, Nori's breathy sighs of his father's name somehow echoing in the darkness, amplified.  Then he started walking in on them, two people who were used to being alone together all the time.  Jason walked into the kitchen, bleary eyed and sleepy one morning to see his father with his back to him, Nori's pajama-clad legs wrapped around his waist as she sat on the counter, the pair kissing deeply.  He retreated to his room, vowing to make more noise the next time he ventured in.    
  
The next time had been in the dining room, it was late and he'd come in quietly, the lights in the living room left on so no one would trip.  He'd walked by the dining room and saw them in a similar pose, only this time he could see Nori, her back was to him, arched towards Bran as he wound a lazy hand through her long hair.  His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the freckled, pale chest beneath it and Jason decided that he was going to be as noisy as possible whenever he entered or left a room.  
  
He began walking heavily, letting the doors fall shut and slam themselves in his wake.  Jason did it all the time, even when he was alone, just to make sure.  Once he swore he was alone in the house, but had let the door to his room slam anyway, headed down to the kitchen.  Relishing the solitude, he hummed cheerily to himself as he poured cereal into a bowl.  From the laundry room, he heard a stifled giggle, and a whisper that sent him sulking back to his room.  He was a college graduate and it felt like he was back in freshman year, a tie on the door to signal not to enter the shared room.  
  
It was strange and disconcerting at any time to acknowledge his father and Nori had sex, but the frequency was almost alarming to Jason.  She could be working or playing video games, and his father could be down in his darkroom or not even home yet, but there was a magnetic pull between the two of them, an energy that signaled the beginning of time for his earphones.  
  
"We're sorry about infringing on you these last two weeks."  Bran apologized again, but this time it was more meaningful as Jason stood outside, watching the movers packing boxes and furniture into the truck.  He'd declined his father's offer to keep all the old furniture, only taking a few things.  
  
"You have more sex than anyone I've ever met and I've just graduated from college.  I lived in a frat house for a few semesters."  Jason replied in a rather dour tone. Bran doubled over with laughter, his sides quaking.  
  
"Sorry about all the sex."  He said solemnly when he pulled himself together.  "We just got married."


	8. H is for Hadriana

"Her name is **Hadriana**."  Isabela practically spat the name out and Nori had to wonder why this woman was effecting her this way.  According to her friend, she and Fenris weren't even in a serious relationship, though it looked that way to Nori's outsiders eye.   
  
Jealousy wasn't like Isabela at all, which was why Nori found this whole impromptu visit so fascinating and disturbing.   
  
She sat across from her friend in the book-lined study where she worked in solitude these days, unpacking and doing rewrites, staring out of the large front-facing window that overlooked the lush, green expanse of the front yard.  Isabela arrived unexpectedly, phoning Nori from just down the street, already intent on visiting.  She'd heard her tiny silver sports car rev into the drive, and watched Isabela slide out in tiny shorts and high heels, casual glamor.  
  
"I don't even understand why he wants to see her."  Isabela said, arms crossed in front of her chest defensively.  
  
"Are you jealous?"  Nori asked, careful to keep her voice neutral.  It was a loaded question, and she had no wish to further upset Isabela, but she had to ask.  
  
"No, that isn't it at all."  Isabela answered, standing up to begin an aimless walk around the room as she worked out her next words in her head.  Nori was silent, letting her collect her thoughts, but all her attention was focused on Isabela.  Her friend's jeweled hand slid over the endless rows of books, feeling but not seeing them as she passed.  Stopping, she stood framed in the window, light outlining her curvy form as she spoke in an uncharacteristically serious voice.  
  
"I'm worried."  She said, frowning at the clumsy descriptor.  It was inadequate, but all she had.  "He's gone through a lot, some of it she inflicted upon him.  I've had some horrible exes, but nothing, nothing like Fenris."  
  
The look on Isabela's face was one of an emotion deeper than worry, but before outright fear and Nori wondered just what had happened to Fenris in his past.  He was always there at work when she'd been in the Viscount's office, keeping things running, quietly upgrading their technology.  After the transition, he kept his position, and as far as she knew still did much the same thing for Cullen as he had during Dumar's administration, but Nori hadn't seen him in some time.  
  
In front of the sunshine streaming in from the window, Isabela looked like a pinup girl gone wrong, her limbs arranged to show dejection, her face not playful but betraying thought, brows furrowed and plump mouth frowning.  She cared about Fenris, probably even loved him, but Nori was sure she'd never admit to it anyone, not even herself.  
  
"Can't you talk him out of it?"  
  
"I've tried."  Isabela answered.  "This is his decision, and I want to respect it, but I just...have a bad feeling about this meeting."  
  
"Then let's keep an eye on him then when they meet up.  Everyone can use some backup now and then, right?"  Nori asked.  She wasn't sure if she liked the thought of intruding on Fenris, but if Isabela was this upset about the meeting, then maybe it was for the best.  Her friend looked a little less apprehensive at the suggestion, but nowhere near calm.  
  
"I guess it can't hurt if we're just around when they meet.  I'm going to ask him though, I don't want to sneak."  Isabela said, and then she looked around the room with renewed interest.  "Has Bran cooked anything recently?  I could do with some good food."   
  
"We went out last night, but there should be _something_ in the kitchen."  Nori replied, stretching as she stood.  Isabela looked over at her.  
  
"Thanks for being my backup, Nori.  Can't explain this whole mess to anyone else.  I'm not even sure I understand it all, but I do want to keep him safe."  
  
Nori smiled at her friend, but said nothing, leading the way to the kitchen.


	9. I is for Ink

"Are you sure you want to do this?"  Nori asked Merrill, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.  They were in the car now, Nori traveling with her brother and Merrill for moral support, and because she was the only one that actually had gotten a tattoo within recent memory.    
  
"Yes, yes, we agreed on it."  
  
"I know, but you don't even really seem the mabari type.  Don't you want to pick another design?"  Nori raised an eyebrow as she asked.  
  
"Well, I'm getting a mabari."  Carver declared from the driver's seat.  Nori sighed, so predictable.  At least Carver was consistent, she could give him that much.  
  
"Don't you like tattoos?"  Merrill asked Nori, wondering why she seemed so adamant about talking her out of another.  
  
"I do, I think they're beautiful.  I have two."  Nori reminded her, and held up her wrist to show off her most visible one.  It was a heart, a heart she'd drawn herself, just a small thing.  Her first tattoo, the one she'd gotten after her father died, but not a memorial, more like a declaration of life, at least in Nori's mind.  At work, it was usually covered, watches, bracelets and long sleeves effectively shielding it from general knowledge.  
  
"Two?"  Carver asked loudly.  "I thought you only had one."  
  
 "Well, the other isn't in a place I normally display."  Nori replied, thinking of the many times Bran's lips had passed over the inked skin, kissing the design.  
  
"If I can't see it, I really don't want to know."  He said, saving her from the question she felt forming on Merrill's lips.

The three of them rode in silence for the rest of the way, the trip short.  As they got out of the car, Merrill turned to look at Nori, her face resolute but thoughtful.

"I'm sure I want a mabari, like Carver's getting, unless of course, there's a really pretty griffon or something.  I'll need to take a look at the different options."   She declared.

Nori smiled and shook her head as she walked into the small shop behind Carver.  A really pretty griffon almost made her laugh aloud, but it was just so perfectly Merrill that it made sense.


	10. J is for Journalist

"Why are you home?"  It was the middle of the day, a work day and Nori was looking up at her husband, who wasn't wearing an expression meant to calm her fears.  Bran's face was drawn, worried and his golden brown eyes had a frantic look.    
  
"There's a website."  He began, his face twitching slightly.  "An article.  Some sort of tell-all from the Viscount's office, people who worked with Dumar."  
  
Nori's heart sank.  She'd seen this kind of thing before, knew that people who worked in government were often offered money to 'spill secrets'.   It had happened to her father once, an aide trying to make a quick bunch of money claimed to have evidence of an affair.  What she had was phone calls and letters from Leandra, private keepsakes of between a woman who wrote often and husband who traveled.  
  
"What is it?"  Nori asked, preparing herself for the worst.  If it was enough to make Bran come home in the middle of the day, it had to be bad.  They hadn't been discreet at the Keep, their relationship fueling a good share of the gossip up until they left office.

Then there was her book, she'd foolishly decided to write a book of all things, right after her term in public office.  It was coming out soon and she was guessing this article wasn't just a coincidence.  Bran was probably more upset about this reflecting badly on her than he was for himself.  
  
"Nothing about you.  You weren't even there for two years.  It's me."  He said, looking dejected.  His expression shifted as he came closer to her, and she could feel something more intense than anxiety coming from him.  He was ashamed.  Pain and humiliation were visible in his brown eyes as he locked gazes with Nori.  Sitting down in the chair across from her, he leaned forward to explain.  "I was never unfaithful, not to Jane and certainly not to you.  But once I separated from my first wife, it was a freedom I'd never really known.  I was thirty-one, in a visible position and single."    
  
Nori shook her head, waiting for him to get to the embarrassing part.  Anything that a journalist thought they might have worth printing had to be dangerous.  
  
"There were prostitutes, not all of them women."  Bran explained.  Nori looked her confusion, frowning at him and then tilting her head to one side.  
  
"But we talked about this before.  I mean not prostitutes, but that's legal here and obviously something in your past.  It doesn't bother me who you slept with in the past."  
  
"Prostitutes don't bother you?"  
  
"Not unless someone mistakes me for one again, like the time I visited my father in Antiva.  A man in the lobby tried to hire me!"  Nori puffed indignantly and Bran had to laugh.  The sound was shaky, relieved and little uncontrolled.  
  
"If they're trying to shame people for patronizing prostitutes, then it can't be much of a story."  Nori mused.  "They could write a whole book called 'Carver' in that case."  Bran raised an eyebrow at the comment, but left it alone.  If he asked, it might derail his confession into details he really didn't need to know about his brother-in-law.  
  
"Ah yes, well, there are more details than that.  Parties, events privately thrown for dignitaries and ambassadors, hired girls in costumes, high grade cocaine that made the nights last longer."  
  
"And you partook with a relentless vigor once you were divorced?"  She asked, eyebrow arched upward, nearly disappearing into her hair.  
  
"I did."  Bran admitted.  "But never with the cocaine.  Drugs, things that dull my senses were never really to my liking."  He said, his voice managing to sound snobby and penitent at the same time.  "It was years ago, years before we met. The article makes it sound recent, but it isn't, not at all.  It's actually called 'The Debauched Days of Dumar.  Journalists do love their alliteration."  He mused.   Nori smiled ruefully at him, shaking her head again.  
  
"We'll survive. There has to have been worse things said and in two weeks there will be newer, more scandalous news."  She said accurately.  "How's Marlowe taking it?"  She wondered, her thoughts turning towards the older man, and by extension, her mother.  
  
"He and your mother are playing a drinking game whenever a journalist calls.  All I could hear was giggling when I called to talk to him about it."  
  
"That's the spirit."  Nori said, laughing.  "We should do that.  I assume you aren't going back into the office today."  Bran shook his head.  "Well then, there's nothing stopping us."  Nori quipped and this time Bran sounded more like himself when he laughed.

"There's better things we could do than spend a day drunk."  Bran reminded her, reaching forward to let a manicured hand drift down the soft skin of her face.  Nori closed her eyes at the caress, letting the sensation fill her thoughts.  She wasn't exactly pleased at the news, her husband and many other people that she respected humiliated in print, but she knew the lay of the land.

But after so many years of publicity, of living and knowing these people, working with them and becoming their friends, all she could really say was that, people were people, with all their problems and quirks.  Sex was what everyone loved to gossip and guess about, but it was such a narrow measure of personality, and subjective to boot, it wasn't to be trusted as a sole source of information.  Bran knew that about her, understood her views, but she guessed that it was the negativity and shame, the tone of the article and backlash that he was trying to protect her from.  She knew her husband, the man he was now, and that was what mattered most to her, and she'd withstand whatever some gossip writer could throw her way.

As Bran pulled in closer for a kiss, she decided she might let him make it up to her.


	11. K is for Keeper

"How did you know with Bran?"  Bethany asked her sister as they were sitting across from each other on the patio of a restaurant, the sun shining down around them.  
  
 The two were a sight almost out of a fashion magazine, Bethany with her short, dark hair, freshly cut and styled, the pixie cut enhancing the delicate features of her face.  Across from her Nori was as she always was, long, thick dark hair hanging down her back, sunglasses pushing it off her face with a casual elegance.  She was dressed plainly, preferring her dark capri pants and white button down to Bethany's bright print dress. They were having lunch together, which a giggling Beth admitted made her feel very 'grown up and posh' as they were seated outside of the bistro, setting the scene for passersby.

Nori considered the question, taking a sip of the rich, reddish amber colored beer in front of her as she did.  Her sister would be thinking about Keran, her longtime boyfriend.   Keran was a good man, he'd saved enough money to be able to stop working as a messenger and was almost done with school.  His days were now devoted to his comparative economic studies - the last set of classes he'd need to graduate at the end of the year.

"What are you thinking?"  Nori asked instead, trying to gauge the question.

"We're talking about living together."  Beth proclaimed boldly, her face set as if she expected resistance.

Nori didn't disappoint.  "He doesn't have a job anymore."  She pointed out the most obvious objection first.

"He's hardly broke." Beth scrunched up her face at her sister, as if she was a little let down that money was the first thing that came to mind.  "What economics major would quit a job without figuring out all the implications?"

"What's he doing after he graduates?"  Nori asked, sighing at the predictability of her own questions.  She sounded like her mother, but she really did need to know these things.

"Several places are interested, and he did an internship with one of them not too long ago.  He's at the top of his class."  Nori nodded, she hadn't expected anything else from Keran, who seemed to propel himself forward with a limitless inner-drive.

"Why ask me?" Nori was curious.

"Because you didn't listen to any of us about Bran, or even really ask, you just did what you wanted.  It all just seemed so romantic, and right, especially once the two of you got back together."

"Bran and I had a long build up.  We saw each other every day at work and then the tension, the flirtation and everything we felt for each other finally culminated, but I never really knew, not until we already well into it.  You can't really ever get around what your heart wants."  Nori mused, a smile still lingering on her lips as she thought about the early days back in the Keep.  "What does your heart say about Keran?"

"I'm not even thinking about marriage or anything like that, but he's a keeper."  She turned her head to the side, looking at the people passing them by, the foot traffic increased by the warm and sunny day.  Shoppers went by swinging bags under their arms, and the few trucks allowed into the alleys were busy loading and unloading merchandise to the stores and restaurants nearby, getting ready for the evening crowds.  "I think this is the right next step for us, it could be great."

"Then you don't really need to ask me or get my permission.  But for what it's worth, I think you should."

Bethany smiled over her nearly empty lunch plate, turning back to face her sister.  Nori couldn't help but smile back at her, unable to resist Beth's luminous grin.


	12. L is for Library

Bran cannot pass a bookstore without going in, and the older and rarer the tomes, the better.  He has a weakness for fine things, art, wine, and old books among them, which has recently led to a small amount of discord between him and Nori.  

They've been in their new home long enough to settle in comfortably, though it was hard to get used to the excess of space.  Before, in his brownstone there had been just one area he didn't truly use, the guest suite he had set aside for Jason, across the hall from the room that had been his study.  Even the basement there had housed his weights and sporting equipment, a closeted area becoming a darkroom.  

He didn't usually have a need to fill things, hated clutter and ruthlessly edited his own belongings whenever he cleaned. But the new house had a library, shelves and shelves, only partially full.  Even with all of their combined books, Nori inheriting her father's extensive legal library and adding it to his own, the library looks bare, the room needing more, much more to give it the grand feeling it demands.

It's his mission to fill the selves with beautiful books, leather bound works of art covering the walls until they hit the ceiling.

And so while Nori is in a nearby boutique, he lets loose in the bookstore, a specialty dealer.  He only intends to buy a few to start, but as he browses, he can't resist some of them.  Rare editions of books, old covers that should be framed, the smell of the musty paper intoxicating him as he moved, enthralled, through the store.

"Really?"  Nori asked with a raised eyebrow when he finally leaves the bookstore to find her.  On her wrist is a small shopping bag bearing the name of a jewelry store, but he knows it isn't for her, rather a gift for Merrill's upcoming Name Day and wisp of guilt sweeps over him as he looks at her over his box of books.

"They ran out of bags."  He tried to reason, but she didn't buy it, shaking her head at him.  The defense was feeble and even he wouldn't believe it if had been the other way around.  "Let's get to the car before my arms fall off."  Bran said grumpily.  "It's not a crime to want to fill a library."

"No, Bran, it's not.  But we don't have to do it all at once, okay?"  She asked, exasperated with him.

It was then he decided not to tell her about the books he'd ordered that would be coming to the house later in the week.  Maybe he'd have them sent to his office instead and sneak them in, one by one, he considered as she led the way to the car.


	13. M is for Manuscript

"Are you sure?"  Bran asks, taking the printed pages from Nori.  
  
"Yes, stop making me nervous."  She answers, shifting her weight uncomfortably under the gaze he's giving her.  It's a little incredulous a little challenging, and she understands why.  In all the time that she's been writing, she's never let him see it.  He's read her published works, articles and forewords, things like that, but this is different.  She's handing him her book.  It's her story.  
  
The book started out as just an idea, a way to make a point that, yes, she was Malcolm Hawke's daughter, and it was a little about him, but it was about her as well.  Just because she worked in politics didn't mean she didn't have her own opinions, her own thoughts and story.  She wasn't mini-Malcolm, and her thoughts were her own, based in her own experiences and life.   
  
It got a little long.  She'd made it a collection of essays and relevant autobiographical moments, each story becoming something political and personal, a little bit of her.  It was more than a little long when she finished it, handing the ream of paper to her husband to read.  Maybe she should have just emailed it to him.  It was just over 108,000 words.  
  
He took the pages and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Nori to distract herself.  She wanted to sit next to him while he read, making note of the places where he laughed.  He had such a wonderful laugh, velvety and rich, always reminding her of the things he loved, like fine chocolates and wine.  She had to stop herself from getting in bed next to him, and turned downstairs to make something to eat, but really just searching for a distraction.  
  
After several attempts to play video games later, they had dinner together and he still was reading it, silent as he sat across from her at the nook in the kitchen, where they normally ate unless they had guests.  It took him time to read it and he refused to comment before he finished, causing Nori no end of frustration.  When they went to bed that night, and he was still reading it, his reading glasses perched low on his thin nose as he shuffled the papers.  She drifted off to sleep, the silence too much for her to bear while awake.  
  
"Wake up."  Bran said, shaking her.  She was confused, he almost never shook her awake, preferring to see where kisses would lead them.  
  
"Wha?"  
  
"I finished."  He informed her and Nori sat bolt upright, making herself dizzy.  When she looked over at the clock on his side of the bed, it read 3:02 in red lights.  
  
"It's brilliant.  You're witty and informative without losing or distorting your themes.  The language is a good mix of terms, it isn't so mired in political jargon that people outside of politics couldn't understand it."  
  
"Thank you."  Nori felt herself blushing as her husband lavished praise upon her.  "But did it make you laugh?"  She asked, her voice still sleepy.  
  
"Yeah, it's funny, self-deprecating without seeming attention seeking or needy. Really cute in some places."  
  
"Good."  Nori said, sliding back down into the bed.  "That's what they'll remember."


	14. N is for Nap

Unemployment is different than Nori ever envisioned it.  As she'd planned out her next few months, she'd thought there would be endless stretches of time, begging for structure, her hobby projects and stack of books near her side of the bed shrinking as she caught up on them, beating a new video game every week.

If only.

Those types of things are what people do when they are on vacation.  Sure, she's read a few more books, played some games, but it's not enough for months.  It's the first time since she graduated that she has whole empty weeks, days without demands, pressures or schedules.  After leaving the Keep, it had felt liberating, but now the freedom feels maddening.

She sleeps.  It's what she does when she's tired, when she's overwhelmed, when she's lonely and everyone else is busy.  Now she understands why Carver and Merrill try to schedule their classes for the same times, even though they go to different schools.

And Bran is working, working all the time, days almost as long as they were in the Keep, though, thankfully, no weekends yet.  He comes in at night, smelling faintly of his aftershave but  more potently of outside, and she kisses him eagerly, the only person she sees most days.

At first she tried, calling Bethany and her mother, going out with Isabela, visiting Aveline, and then, things waned, her newfound free time becoming a fact, the novelty of her availability wearing off.  Even the business calls slowed down, though every now and again she gets an email, an invitation, something sent her way.

When he comes home that night, she's already in bed, their room dark when he reaches it.  

"Nori?"  He whispers, but gets no reply.

Bran frowns into the darkness, it's only 6pm, but he can hear her quiet, snuffling snores from under the blanket.  Guilt and concern cross his face as he settles into bed with her, easing his body next to hers.  It usually wakes her up, but this time, she throws an arm around him and presses her warm figure up against him, wrinkling his suit pants as she wraps her legs around one of his.


	15. O is for Orlais

Despite his wishes, they're in Orlais, visiting his parents for a short break.  Nori was getting too stuck in the house in Kirkwall, the mundane problems of every day and endless stretches of time while she waited to hear from her editor were driving her insane.  Bran was coming home to messes accumulated as she worked, a fraught and panicky wife that felt like she had to do everything at once, then got overwhelmed and wound up taking a nap.   
  
It got to be too much for both of them.  Just being in the house was stressing her out, and stress was one thing neither of them wanted right now.  
  
"She doesn't look happy."  Bran's father, Graham observed as he watched Nori through a window.  His dad had met him on the road as he came back from a walk down to the seaside.   
  
It was cool here, the temperature in tune with the cool blue waters of the Waking Sea, where the city stood perched against it.  The fishermen down at the docks had been decked out in their winter gear, and he'd walked quickly, back through town towards the fashionably central arrondissement where his parents lived.  Despite its origins as a fishing port, Jader had become a vibrant city, the art and culture unique to the area.  
  
His mother painted, and was hung in several galleries.  Bran owned one of her paintings, but she'd brought it with her when she'd redecorated his house.  He asked for another when they got here, the sublime colors in a new piece almost beckoning to him when she'd taken him out to her studio, a converted barn in the backyard.  
  
The artistic feel of the city was supposed to provide Nori with some much needed distraction, but he didn't know yet it if was working.  He felt like he was failing her, unable to provide the comfort she needed as she transistioned, but she insisted it wasn't that way.  
  
"No, she's not.  Not for the last few weeks, anyway."  Bran finally answered his father, letting out a frustrated breath from between his cold lips.  "And I don't know what to do."  
  
"Getting her away from home was a good start.  She baked cookies with your mother this morning while you were out."  
  
"That's something."  Bran conceded, though not exactly what he had in mind.  
  
"Is she pregnant?"  His father asked, unusually blunt.  Bran didn't answer for a moment, but instead looked away, back down the road he'd just taken.    
  
Jader's center was on a hill, and he could look down and see the water sparkling light blue and chilly at the end of the city.  The boats littered the harbor, bobbing along, even in the calm seas. It would get warmer here soon, a balmy warmth, tempered by the ocean breezes and southern location.  It would be beautiful, perfect for resting, if it wasn't overrun with vacationers.  
  
"She wasn't before we got here.  We've been trying, but without success so far."  
  
 "Maybe that's what's bothering her, making her feel at loose ends.  Or it could be that she just feels like she's out of control.  It's hard to be waiting all the time, waiting for everything to start, nothing you can control.  Makes you feel helpless."  Graham mused, thinking aloud.  "I don't know what she's doing, with her book, going to school and all that, but it seems like more than just those things accumulated, it feels like she's fretting over something important."  Graham reached over, clapping his son on the shoulder.

Bran thought about his father's words, looking through the window of the house again.  They hadn't really talked about it since deciding to lazily try, Nori ending her regimen of birth control pills before after they'd wed.  He'd been cautious, reminding her that it might not happen immediately because of him, though he could still have children, any problems were likely to lie with him, she was younger and in good health.  Maybe his father was right, it had been months and he saw her leaving the bathroom disappointed every month when her period came.  It might have been quietly eroding her confidence away, along with stress and pressure as she tried to write.  Suddenly, he felt terrible, responsible and even more neglectful as he thought about how hard these past few months must have been on her, all this change, and she was still transitioning, while he sat comfortably in his new office every day, the constant Ruvena outside his door.

"It's not time yet son.  You just got married again.  Tell her to enjoy being married and stop worrying, stop trying to do everything at once."  His father advised.  Heaving in a deep breath, he could taste the salt of the sea on the air as his father's grey eyes wandered over him, inspecting his son in much the same way he looked at Jason.  Bran nodded, putting his tired legs in motion again as he headed back into the white clapboard house.


	16. P is for Pie

There aren't a lot of dishes Bran would say that his wife was actually masterful at making, and if anyone had asked him before, he would have laughed at the question.  Nori just wasn't particularly skilled in the kitchen, which normally worked out fine, his culinary ability more than made up for her lack of technical skills.  It worked out well for them, he liked cooking, it was something relaxing to do at the end of the day, and it involved standing up, which was a relief after sitting behind his desk for hours.  She would sit in the kitchen talking to him, a spectator as he put things together, his taste-tester, eager and enthusiastic to talk to him after spending a day at home alone.

But, as Bran found out well after they'd been married, she's some kind of pie-savant.  Her creations are better than anything he'd ever made, far outpacing anything bought from the store, rivaling those found in the best bakeries.

It's almost an accident, how he finds out.  While at home, Nori baked recreationally, as a pastime or a distraction.  The process of creating, baking, taking her mind from whatever task was causing her a problem. He came home one day, the enticing scent of warm pastry filling the air.  He almost walked back out to make sure he was in the right house, but figured that this will not endear him to his wife, who had two pies cooling on the counter.  She was sitting at the breakfast nook, reading a book and he wondered how she could even think, let alone read with the smell of pie hanging heavy around her.

"What's all this?"  Bran asked.  It was evident that he knew, his familiar, bored tone took on an almost predatory edge as he spoke.  Nori looked up at him, a little confused as she explained.  He was missing something here, she was looking at him too strangely, as if she'd expected him to know why she was baking pies.  Maybe there was a birthday or other occasion he'd forgotten.

"Made pies.  Just wanted one today, and I needed to get out from in front of the computer.  I wanted key lime, but then I made a lemon meringue to take to my mother."

"You've never made pie before."  He stated, almost accusing her of hiding pie from him.  Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked down his narrow nose at her, wordlessly demanding an explanation for his pie-less marriage so far.

"I haven't?"  She asked, startled at his accusation.  Apparently, not making pies was a capital offense.  "No, I guess I haven't, not for you."  Nori said, frowning as she did, trying to recall the last time she'd even made a pie.  "But it's about the only thing I make really well."

Really well was an understatement.  Pies became a regular thing in their house, the blissful smells entrancing him as he walked in the door to the house, tantalizing.  The warm, buttery scent of the flaky crust she made for apple pies, the sweet graham cracker, the perfume of bubbling, cooked fruit making him anticipate dessert far more than whatever they had for dinner.

Truth be told, they had pie for dinner more than once.  Just pie.  It was perfect.

It was only when Nori informed him that his suits couldn't be let out any more that he stopped requesting pie quite so often.


	17. Q is for Quilt

"You know, I'm sure the tradition is to get the wedding quilt, before the wedding not after."  Nori points out to her mother one day.  She's sitting in her mother's living room, with Aveline, Bethany, Merrill and strangely enough Carver gathered around her, each working on a piece of a quilt.

"I know that darling, but you got married so fast, we didn't have time..."  Leandra said, the reply sort of lamely petering out as looked down at the massive pile of fabric scraps at their feet.

"To start?"  Bethany supplied, settling into a chair near Merrill, who was methodically laying pieces out, planning out how she'd put them together.

Carver was on the floor, his massive legs tucked under him, dark head already bent as he worked.  Sewing was one of the things he'd learned from Mother as a teenager, recovering for an unfortunate sports accident that resulted in a broken leg.  Perhaps aided by his artists hands, quick, nimble fingers were stitching neat seams, a sizable amount of fabric already joined and pooling in his lap.

It was meant to be simple, a sort of patchwork quilt that was given as a gift.  Leandra insisted that it was tradition in her family, that for years making a bridal quilt had been a practice passed down through the women on her side.  A yellowed photograph of a group of women standing stony faced holding up a large, old fashioned looking quilt was submitted as evidence to a skeptical Nori.  Then came the kicker, when Leandra went into the cellar and fished out her own.

It was large, lumpy and didn't look at all comfortable.  She could see that it was meant to be primarily decorative, the fabric all ivory and lacy, tiny fake pearls added in places, probably making a design that was lost to her eye.  It was most certainly a wedding quilt, and when her mother had smilingly said that she was going to make Nori one of her own, she insisted it be less...ornate.

Something comfortable, that could actually be used was more her speed.  Not that the quilt her mother had wasn't beautiful, but rather the fact that it spent most of its time closed up in a cedar chest made Nori want a useful item.  There was something sweet about thinking of it being worn and soft in the future.

Aveline sat uncomfortably next to her, roped into the endeavor by promises of nights out with babysitting provided by Leandra.  She'd protested, pointing out that she didn't really know how to quilt, that this was going to take more than just a few visits, even with all of them working together.

But as they got more comfortable, talking once their attention was no longer consumed with the act of sewing, the repetition lulling them into a rhythm, laughter soon followed.  The hours went quickly, pleasant despite pricking their abused fingers with errant needles.  Once the night spread inky across the horizon, darkening the front room where they sat, Aveline took her leave, and Carver spread his large body out on the floor, relaxing tensed muscles, complaining about how hungry he was.  They drifted off into other parts of the house, Bethany retreating for a bath, Merrill still diligently working, though now in another room with the television on to provide entertainment.

"The quilt isn't the point, is it?"  Nori asked Leandra in a soft voice, just before she left.

"No.  I think my mother bought mine and we added the pearls together, though she said otherwise.  She claimed she'd sewn it together herself from the moment she found out I was engaged, but Gamlen later told me that she'd paid a woman to make it for me.  Your Grandmother Amell had never been much for actually creating anything, but the thought was there, and together we added to it.  It was a lovely time."  Her mother smiled at the memory, looking wistful as Nori leaned over and kissed Leandra on her cheek, inhaling the scent of her familiar perfume before withdrawing.

"Thank you, Mother."


	18. R is for Regret

She spins around on the dance floor, twirling away, out of his reach.  Laughter reaches his ears, soft and melodic, but she isn't laughing, not when she looks at him.  Skirt flying, lifted by the breeze she's made as she spins further from him.  Even though he released her, he wants nothing more than to have her back in his arms, to feel her chest pressed against his.

But when he looks around, she isn't there anymore.

Gone is the dance, the bustle of people, the swirl of faces, people he almost knew.  All that's left is the slow, melancholy music filtered through the distortion of his sorrow, the parts he tried hardest to bury and forget.

Everyone makes mistakes, but somehow knowing that doesn't make the personal ones, the whoopsie-daisies or the HOLY FUCKING SHIT ones any better. 

The song is for him, and him alone.  

He closes his eyes to combat the loneliness, an effort to pretend that he isn't the only one left and there is no one dancing anymore.  Once he sinks into his self-imposed darkness, he breathes a sigh of relief.  It's quiet here.  

Silence until the faces begin, his loved ones, his regrets flashing in front of his eyes.  The expressions pour into his mind, faster than he can combat them, a distraught mother, a disappointed father.  His first wife, who wanted too much and asked too little of him, his son as a child, wondering why.  There's other people, the heartbreak he's caused, the effects of the carelessness and selfishness that he's always been prone to.  As he got older it got harder to justify, and people no longer claimed to understand.  Images shuffle in his mind, quicker and quicker until they spill to the ground like a deck of cards sliding off a table.

The last face he sees is hers, and there's no dress, no dancing now.  She's as he always sees her when they are unguarded, familiar.  Narrowed brown eyes wordlessly accuse him, and there's no where left to turn.  The music crescendos to a swell, overwhelming and loud, a din instead of a tune.  Panic sits on his chest, threatening to smother him as his eyes dart around the room, looking for a way out.

"Are you alright?"  Nori's propped up next to him on her elbow, and it takes a while for his eyes to readjust to the pre-dawn darkness of their bedroom.  His breathing is ragged, and hands balled into tight fists at his side, but her eyes are kind, concerned instead of accusing.  "It was just a dream."  She soothes, stroking his damp hair back from his sweat covered forehead.

It wasn't, but Bran clutches at her anyway.


	19. S is for Solona

"I have an invitation to lunch."  Nori announced as she walked into the bedroom one evening.

"That's nice."  Bran was absent-minded in his response, not really paying attention as he worked away at his desk around the corner of their room.  He didn't turn as she walked around to face him, but rather kept typing, finishing his thoughts before looking at up at her.

"With my cousin, Solona."

"Cullen's wife?  I thought you hardly knew her."  Bran went back to typing, not sure why Nori even cared.

"I don't.  That's why this is so strange."

"What's so strange about it?  You're in politics and she's married to the Viscount.  She probably wants to size you up for another job offer somewhere down the line."  He was dismissive, not understanding the undercurrent of disgruntled distress he was picking up from his wife.

"You think that's it?"  Nori was almost challenging him with the question, and he finally looked up and gave her his full attention.

"What's really wrong?"

"Is it bad that I don't want to go?  I feel obligated, but she's never struck me as a member of the family I need to know.  We've met up before, and our conversations always fizzle out after 'how's your mother?'"

Bran looked at her and thought for a moment, his expression closed.  He could understand what she meant about not really wanting to get involved with her cousin, but they were bound to see each other with more frequency since Solona's husband had taken the office of the Viscount.  In the end, he shrugged before speaking again.

"Just go.  At least there will be food."

It wasn't all bad, Nori had to admit, as she sat at round table in a tiny bistro in old Hightown.  It just didn't start out any less awkward than she'd envisioned.

"So how are you liking the Viscount's mansion?"  Nori asked to break the silence that had stretched between them for several minutes now.  She was resisting the urge to get out her phone and check her email.

"It's been fine.  I've lost the kids a few times in all those rooms, but they always show up a day or two later."  Solona answered dryly and for the first time Nori actually laughed.

Deciding to loosen up, and aided by champagne they were both sipping, Nori leaned forward.  "Why did you ask me to lunch?"

"My mother has always been somewhat in awe of yours.  Leandra and her famous politican husband, her outstanding kids.  You are practically the pride of the Amell family all on your own."  Solona shrugged, but Nori blanched, unaware that anyone outside of her mother even talked about her.  "I just wanted to get to know you on your own."

"Well, I appreciate it, I think."  Nori looked around her shoulder at the stiff waiters and silver trays.  "But we didn't have to do this, it didn't have to be formal.  I'd like to meet your kids."

Solona smiled, relaxing a bit more.  "I'm sure they'd like that.  They love meeting new people, and ask a million questions.  Don't let them get started in the 'Why?' game.  You'd be there all night."

Nori laughed, thinking about how Bethany had once been the same.  Why had been her favorite question as a child.

Now that she'd opened up, Solona wasn't quite so bad as Nori had pictured.  Cullen was stiff at the best of times, and she'd expected her cousin to be the same, but the woman had quick, droll wit about her, and once out of her shell, warmed up quickly.

"Tell me how you met Cullen."  Nori demanded at the end of the meal, feeling much more comfortable.

"We went to the same boarding school and he was a prefect.  One day, I got sick of his stammering and blushing at me and I kissed him.  He avoided me for a month after that, but we eventually got it together.  I was seventeen then."  Solona blushed at the memory, and Nori chuckled.  She could see Cullen as a hall monitor, she really could.

"And you worked with your husband."  Solona said, clearing her throat.

"Yes.  We worked together, we flirted, the office bet on it, and I think Viscount Dumar won the pool on us getting together."

Solona's laughter was throaty and rich as she threw her head backwards.  A passing waiter gave her a glance, but said nothing as she continued to quake merrily.

When they parted, the two women hugged.  They weren't friends, not yet, but they had upgraded from 'merely coincidentally related' to something warmer.

"How was it?"  Bran asked her that evening.  This time, he was paying attention and she didn't seem nearly as agitated as she had at the invitation.

"It was good.  Not a job offer, more like a chance to become friends."  Nori smiled to herself, but didn't elaborate.  Hopefully, there would be plenty of chances for him to form his own opinions about her cousin in the future.


	20. T is for Tourney

Nori had been invited to the Grand Tourney before, but preferred to watch it on television, at home, away from the crowds of people.  Her parents had gone every year, but she'd stayed at home, relishing the quiet, empty streets of Kirkwall while nearly every other citizen watched or attended the events.  Bars had great parties for them, and shops shut down.  She was shocked when an invitation came in the mail for Mr and Mrs Norina Hawke (a name that made her snort with laughter, she swore she was going to start calling Bran that), inviting her to top box seating at the Tourney in Starkhaven.

They hadn't been there since the Viscount had addressed the Assembly, and she'd wanted to go back.  The Vaels notwithstanding, Starkhaven was an interesting place and a beautiful city, considered to be the crown jewel of the Free Marches.

"We're invited to the Grand Tourney."  Nori mentioned casually one day after Bran came home from work.  "The invitation came from Mr and Mrs Norina Hawke."

Bran chuckled, standing over the stove.  "I'll gladly be Mr Norina Hawke anytime you like.  I wouldn't mind going.  We haven't been away for a while."

"It's all a bit archaic to me.  How interesting could a bunch of sword fights be?"  

"You'd be surprised, it's an interesting sport, and the crowds really love it.  It's mostly tradition, but still really fun.  I've been a few times, though not recently.  The closing ceremony is worth going for by itself, though the competition can be quite riveting too."  Bran said.  "Come on, if you don't like it, we can always skip out and go someplace else.  But I think you will like it."  He added, more to himself than to his wife.

Weeks later he sat next to Nori who was energetically booing a contestant as they left the arena.  She sat back down next to him and gave him a quick kiss.  He could taste the beer she was slugging down, though she didn't seem at all drunk.  He'd known she'd like it, his wife was a bit too competitive to not be interested.

"This is so much fun!  I'm glad I convinced you to come."  She teased him.  Bran squeezed her hand in return, eagerly watching the board as it lit it and announced the next fighters.


	21. U is for Uninspired

The malaise that hit Nori was like nothing else she'd ever experienced.  She was finished with her numerous projects, moving was done and she was waiting.

She hated waiting.  There was so little that needed her attention it was almost comical.  Bran went happily to work each day, well, perhaps not happily, but it gave him purpose and he went.  He came home every night at a semi-regular time, relieved that the day was over, ready to spend time with her but the few hours when he wasn't working weren't enough.

Nori was bored, she wanted to do something, anything.  The time off she'd so happily accepted, had meticulously planned out, had turned into days and days of idle time.  She did nothing and was moved to do nothing.

In her new house, in the summer heat, she sat there, turning on the television and turning it back off after watching only a few minutes of shows, reading a few pages of books before setting them down, doing just enough exercise to make her feel as if she'd accomplished something, avoiding talking on the phone to her friends and family because she had nothing to report.  What did one do with all this free time?  It was as if her ability to process it had atrophied.

Marlowe told her that he enjoyed the nothingness, the lack of demands, the freedom.  It was a wonderful experience for him, having served so long with nothing but deadlines and demands placed upon him.  He saw it as opportunity and she felt as it if caged her.

Bran was worried.

Nori padded around the house in her pajamas all day, taking long baths and sleeping, sending him text messages that simply said "I'm so bored." and nothing else.  He'd never seen her like this before, it was as if she was frantic but immobile, nothing able to lift the oppressive cloud the enveloped her. He'd tried giving her his cameras to practice with, calling Isabela and Aveline, even Merrill and Bethany, asking them to take her out, to no avail.

It was Carver that got through to her.  He came over unannounced, all swagger on a Saturday around noon with Merrill trailing in his wake.  She didn't even know he got up this early, and she certainly hadn't been awake when he banged on her door, pushing past Bran to see her.  He came over and made himself at home, grabbing a beer out of the fridge before joining her and an unreasonably perky Merrill at the breakfast nook in the kitchen.

"Sister, you look like shit."

"You're so sweet."  Nori mockingly batted her eyelashes at her brother, who snorted in return.

"Luckily, I know exactly what you need."  He said enigmatically, looking pleased with himself.

"Oh yeah?"  Nori raised an eyebrow.  "And what's that?"  She asked.

He exchanged a look with Bran, who was standing in the doorway, fully dressed.  Nori was still wearing pajamas and hadn't brushed her hair.

"Right now it's a fucking shower."  Carver said, and Bran chuckled.  She glared at him as he unsuccessfully tried to turn his laughter into a cough, then simply shrugged at her, as if he had no control over his reaction.  "Seriously, get dressed and leave with Merrill."

She hoped that a trip out with Merrill wasn't supposed to cheer her up.  Merrill had strange ideas of fun, and the last time the two of them had gone out, Nori found herself attending a lecture on biology that was so far above her head that she didn't even try to keep up.  But Merrill promised it was nothing quite so lofty this time, and she suspected that Merrill was sent to distract her, because the few times she suggested they go back, Merrill panicked and turned red, squeaking out protests.

Six hours after her brother had burst into her house, Nori smiled at the people around her as she looked out at the flame cast by the citronella tiki torches lining the yard.   Lanterns lit the pathways, and exotic flower arrangements that could have only come from her mother decorated the tables and plinths around them, their perfume mixed with the char of meat, hanging heavy in the night air.  Her mother sat talking to Donnic, while Marlowe had on of Aveline's twins on his lap as he spoke with Merrill.  Aveline was hanging back, talking to Varric who was trying to keep her other baby from gripping the hair on his exposed chest.  She handed Carver a beer while he manned the grill, singing along absently to the music in the background provided by a guitar playing friend from his school.  Isabela and Fenris both raised a glass to her as she wove through the party, and she nodded at them, glad to see them still together.  Finding her way back to Bran, she sat down next to where he was having a heated discussion with Keran and Bethany, looks of utmost seriousness on their faces as they talked about a movie.  She slipped her hand into his, leaning her head against his shoulder as Bethany smiled at her.  Nori back smiled her first true smile in weeks.  Carver had been right, she had needed a party, but it was just a start.


	22. V is for Vael

Sebastian closes the door to his office, and collapses behind the desk, resting his head against the cool wood.  He doesn't know how Bran did this job for years and years on end without burning out completely.  He can't remember when he became adversaries with the man, but it makes him shake his head, a misunderstanding brought on by his stupid ego.  Sebastian's been awake for most of the last two days, putting out fires and trying to stop new ones before they ignite, guiding a new Viscount, who is, more often than not, out of his depth.

Bran made this job look easy, sure the former Viscount Dumar has been no novice when he'd started, years of politics under his belt, but Bran had been.  He wondered how he'd managed it all, if he'd felt as close to breaking as Sebastian did now or had he been able to keep going no matter what.  But he hadn't had he?  His wife left him, his home life had collapsed around him and he'd been alone for most of his tenure as Chief of Staff.  Sebastian didn't know if he could handle that prospect, and thought, not for the first time, about handing in his resignation at the end of two years.  It would be enough to show he could handle the position, enough to get him into someplace else, maybe back home - he should call his brother.

His mobile phone buzzed, jarring him out of his stupor.

"How are you doing?"  The voice on the other end of the phone asked, and even though it was a clipped professional voice, he rallied at the sound of it.

"Aye, it's been a long two days.  I'm in desperate need of a shower and a new shirt."  His fatigue made his Starkhaven accent more pronounced.

"I'll bet."  A soft chuckle came through the tinny speakers of his phone, and somehow, the sound warmed the exhausted Sebastian.  "Get some rest whenever you can. Did you have anything for me?"

"Nothing urgent.  I'll email you anything I need help with, but it's all winding down."  Sebastian said.

"That's good news!  Hey, take care of yourself, I need to go."

"Thanks for calling."  Sebastian said.

"Anytime."  Varric replied, ending the call.  Nori dealt him into the card game once his call was over. 

"How's he doing?"  Bran asked.

"Hanging in there.  I think he might just make it."  Varric said, smiling at them.

"I hope so."  Nori answered, grinning back at Varric.  It was just like him to help Sebastian even after he didn't have to anymore; Varric was the best kind of friend.


	23. W is for Weekends

There was always work, for years, there had been no end to it at the Viscount's Keep.  But now, Bran could tell people to contact him during office hours, or that it could wait.  Before, it couldn't wait, he couldn't tell nations to hold off of their problems until he was in his office, and he'd been up more than once during the night, driving bleary-eyed to work to solve some problem or another.

Now, there were weekends, time off, days and days away from work.  He hadn't known he'd needed the respite until it was granted to him, hadn't understood what he was missing.

Their weekends were usually the same, it mattered little to Nori what day it was during the week, but on the weekends they both stayed in bed long after they'd awakened.  Only hunger drove them out most of the time, but sometimes there was an occasion, some casual invitation that demanded their time.  He liked the pile of blankets that he nestled into, burrowing next to his wife until they languidly rose, in no hurry as the day unfolded beyond the windows.

Sometimes he took photos or had lunch with his son, who had taken to asking him for more siblings as of late.  As much as he enjoyed the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them, that question always left him sputtering.  There were dinners with Marlowe, tennis matches and movies with Nori.  His days were no longer filled with obligation, and he found that filling them with laughter and friends, with visits to galleries and beaches filled the void that had been left as he'd departed the job he'd loved for so many years.

He had missed so much while he worked.  Keeping the government running had been his honor and his pleasure for many years, but he had come to realize it had also taken as much as it gave him.  Bran glanced towards the bathroom, where he could hear Nori running bathwater, and decided that he needed to join her.  It wasn't as if they had much else to do today, after all.

 Weekends were a good thing.


	24. X is for X-ray

"Well, I certainly didn't intend to fall."  Bran protested, looking up at his wife from where he lay in the hospital.  


"I know, accidents happen."  She said, trying to steady herself as she drew in a breath.  She had been out with Bethany for a last outing before she began her graduate schooling, and had hastily gotten up from their meal, frantic with her need to reach him.  "Bran, you scared me so much.  Aside from your wrist, are you okay?"  Nori was still shaken, unable to drive off the horror she'd felt as she'd come to the hospital.

They weren't in Kirkwall, but just outside of it.  Jason and Bran had gone mountain biking at a nearby resort, an invitation which she'd gleefully declined.  Nori was more of a sightseeing cyclist, and she doubted she was fit enough to endure Jason's idea of relaxed.  Apparently, Bran hadn't been able to stay the pace either. 

"Fine, I suppose.  Feeling quite stupid for falling."  Bran replied.

"You'll be okay, dad.  I'm sure it's just a sprain or something."  Jason supplied helpfully from the corner where he sat.  "I've had worse, remember when I first started playing lacrosse?"

"Don't remind me.  You spent more time recovering than playing."  

"Yeah, well, some people are reckless.  Hey, now that you're here, Nori, I'm going to head down to find something to eat."  He said, standing up and stretching.  He was still dressed in his sweaty, muddy clothes, sunglasses perched on his head.  Jason looked upset, but had brightened when she'd come in.  She hoped he didn't blame himself for his father's fall.

Nori nodded and Jason departed the room, leaving Bran alone with his anxious wife.  He could feel the worry rolling off of her in waves, palpable as she sat next to him.  He didn't have time to ask about it, because the doctor came in.

"Excuse me."  The small raven haired woman said.  She looked a little like Merrill and it comforted Nori a little, to find something familiar.

"It's alright."  Bran said.  "This is my wife, Norina."  He said, introducing her to the doctor.

"Nice to meet you."  The woman said, smiling at Nori.  "Alright, the bad news is that it is a severe sprain.  Probably happened on impact when you tried to break your fall with your palm extended.  Good news is that there is no fracture otherwise you would be in much more pain and would require surgeries to fix.  As it is, I'm going to prescribe you something for the pain and inflammation, tell you not to drive or jostle it too much and give you a sheet of instructions on how to take care of it.  Try to keep it elevated and use ice to reduce the swelling, keep it bandaged to compress it.  If anything changes, skin color, swelling or pain, come back to the hospital."

"Thank you."  Bran said as the doctor excused herself.  It wouldn't be too long now before he could leave, and he was ready to get going, at least to get somewhere he could stop Nori from giving him that look.

She still looked worried, more than he'd ever seen her.  There was something sweet in her devotion, but he felt guilty for scaring her with his own stupidity.  He should have hung back, not tried to keep up with Jace.  To ease the tension, for he was feeling nearly as wound up as she was, he tried to make her laugh.

"Hey, at least I've gotten a new X-ray to add to my collection."  He said.

"You've broken bones before?"

"I broke my leg skiing about eight years ago.  Stupid."  He said, shaking his ginger head.

"I've never had one."  She admitted.

"Never broken anything before?  I find that hard to believe, in all your travels."

"Well I did slip down an icy step in Cumberland and fell on my ass in front of a bunch of people.  I had a huge bruise but nothing needing a trip to the emergency room."

"I spent so much time in places like this with Jace, I felt like I should get frequent flyer miles or some kind of discount."  He grumbled, and she laughed.  It worked, transforming her face at once from worried to something closer to normal.  Bran reached out with his good hand and pulled her in for a kiss.  "You worry too much."  He whispered, and she nodded, laughter still playing about her lips.

"Wouldn't you, if it were me?"

"Yeah."  Bran nodded.  "I would."


	25. Y is for Year End

The months were passing with a speed that seemed unnatural.  Leandra was planning her year end party, the one that had been Nori's wedding the year before.  It seemed a little premature to Nori, her mother started planning before the summer had fully drawn to a close, but she knew little about party planning.  Last year, she and Bran hadn't even been together at this time, it had been fall when he'd lured her back to his house with the gift of a picture and scorching stolen kisses in his office.

"Do you always start before there is even a hint of winter in the air?  Nori asked as she sat down.

"You wouldn't have had a wedding otherwise."

"Ah, well, I guess I have no reason to complain then.  I had an excellent wedding."

Leandra smiled,  "I thought so too.  Are you doing anything special for your anniversary this year?  It's a big deal getting through that first year of marriage.  You and Bran ought to celebrate, even if it is something private."

"Mother, it's months away.  I hadn't thought of it yet."

"Well, you should.  If you want to go away these places book up fast." Nori nodded in agreement, she knew all too well how popular holiday vacations were from trying to book her honeymoon last year.  In frustration, she'd given up and let Bran handle it, and he'd had more success than she.

Leandra carried on talking about her party, but Nori couldn't believe it, nearly a year already.  Things had just started to feel like they were getting back to normal since they'd left the Viscount's Keep.  Granted, there was little basis for normal, she knew that, but once she'd started school again, she had a rhythm that made the whole house feel less like a cage and more like a home.

Being married hadn't felt like she thought it would, but it was overall good nonetheless.  Instead of being this rock solid state of togetherness, it felt fragile at times, when there were questions with no answers and tears, and comfortable at others.  She loved Bran, and they worked well together, but there were peaks and valleys, dips that she didn't have to navigate alone and highs that she was happy to share.  It was good.

"What do you think, dear?"  Leandra asked her, snapping her attention back to the conversation.

Nori smiled at her mother, not knowing what she'd been asked.  "Whatever you want, Mother.  I'm sure it will turn out beautifully."


	26. Z is for Zenith

It had been a year since he'd married Nori, well, a little over a year since it was well into the middle of Nubulis, but Bran hadn't been happier. He was sitting at his desk in his office overlooking the cobbled streets of Old Hightown and thinking about her. This job, it wasn't really new to him anymore, he had been here a year since Marlowe retired and left the Viscount's office. Bran had taken this position at a law firm, earning twice as much money for a whole lot less work. He'd married Nori, who had just started graduate school a few months ago after finishing her book, which was due for publication soon.  
  
Except that he was bored. Sitting at his desk, he was waiting for a meeting that was happening later that day and wasn't doing anything in the meantime. There were plenty of things he could be doing, but none were short enough that he could successfully disengage himself before the meeting. So here he was, making an obsene amount of money per hour to sit at his desk and fantasize about his wife.  
  
Bran loved Nori, but he didn't think that was a strong enough word sometimes. Worshipped, adored, revered, yes, all of those things too. She was part of the reason he kept this job, when sometimes he wanted to go into teaching, or something that allowed him to at least think. He wanted to have the things he hadn't had in his first marriage, money and free time to spend with her.  They'd discussed it before, and she'd encouraged him to follow his interest, but he didn't feel quite comfortable enough to venture out yet.  He felt like the sand had shifted under his feet once they'd left the Viscount's Keep and he needed stability for a while, even if it did come complete with boredom.  
  
He looked out the window at the grey skies and the mountains of snow, wishing it were better weather as he thought of her. She had a doctor's appointment this morning, she'd been having terrible trouble with her allergies since the fall, but they didn't seem to be getting any better, even with the snow that had fallen and frozen things over. Of course, they did have a house full of fancy designer carpets and upholstered chairs and she was allergic to dust, so the problem might lie in their environment as well, but Bran was concerned.  
  
The house had been remodeled and though they encountered no problems, no mold in the walls, nothing strange hidden beneath the carpet they'd replaced with hardwood, they'd made plenty of changes. Maker only knows what they did as they fixed it, she could be breathing in anything. She'd never been this bad before and he worried that she'd caught some lingering cold or worse, it was a reaction to the increased stress she had now that she was back at school in her doctorate program.   
  
Reading through his email, Bran saw one of the many messages a day that he got from Nori. This one simply said "I love you" before she'd signed off, probably to go to her doctors appointment. She emailed him all the time and they talked several times a day, both of them missing the days when they worked together. He wrote back to her, telling her that he loved her too, then describing how many ways he'd like to love her before looking at the time. It was nearly time for his meeting and he got up, leaving his office to go to the large boardroom several floors up where it would be held.  
  
"Ruvena." Bran spoke to his assistant as he passed her desk. She'd left the Viscount's office with him and he was glad to still have her. These days, he actually had two assistants, but Ruvena was the senior assistant.  
  
"Yes messere." She answered.  
  
"If my wife calls, let me know immediately, otherwise, no interruptions during the meeting."  
  
"Of course, messere." Ruvena said with a smile. Bran walked away to the elevator, waiting impatiently to be bored out of his mind during this meeting.  
  
Nori was leaving her doctor's office and had another appointment for late that afternoon. What she'd just heard was, well, not what she'd been expecting in there. Her instinct was to call her husband immediately but instead she calmly drove herself home and poured a glass of water, giving herself time to think.   
  
But all her thoughts were scattered as she sat behind the desk in her office, and nothing was of any comfort. When she did pick up her phone she was hesitant and reluctant to talk to anyone, even Bran.  
  
"Thomas, Johnson and Cousland, this is Ruvena." Ruvena, Bran's assistant answered the phone with her usual greeting. If she was getting Ruvena instead of Bran directly, then he wasn't in his office.  
  
"Hello Ruvena, this is Nori. Is my husband around?"  
  
"I'm sorry, he's in a meeting right now but if you hold for a moment we can inform him that you've called."  
  
"NO! I'm sorry, but no. Please don't get him, just tell him to come home. I'll be here until three, but I have another doctors appointment this afternoon. Could you just tell him that, please?"  
  
"Certainly, messere. Is that all?"  
  
"Yes, thank you Ruvena. Goodbye." Nori said and hung up the phone. She sat back down behind her computer, and looked at the door. She wanted Bran to come home but if he didn't get here in time she'd call her Mother. Something about the doctor's appointment made her not want to go alone.  
  
Bran's meeting lasted until lunchtime and when he came back, Ruvena relayed Nori's message to him.  
  
"Why didn't you get me?" Bran asked, annoyed.  
  
"She asked us not to." Ruvena answered placidly.  
  
"Do I have anything this afternoon?"   
  
"Yes, two meetings. Should I reschedule?"  
  
"Get someone to fill in if you can, if not then reschedule. I'm going home." Bran said in a clipped tone. He was worried about Nori, this new doctor's appointment didn't sound like a good thing.  
  
When he got home, Nori was sitting in her office. She didn't see him, hadn't heard him come in and she was taking off her sweater. It was pretty, a marled black and white turtleneck and beneath it she wore a tank top, the kind she usually slept in. On her arm was the bandage where they had taken blood from her, and she was sweating, he could see the sheen on her skin. Something else caught his eye, and he looked straight at her, assessing her. She must have felt his gaze, for she looked up at him from where she sat.  
  
"Bran, I didn't hear you come in." She said and he could hear how tired she was in her voice.  
  
"I just got here. You have another doctors appointment?"  
  
"Yeah. We should talk."  
  
"You're pregnant." He said, correctly assessing the situation. She nodded.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Your breasts are bigger. I had noticed before, but I thought I was just that lucky." He said and she gave a small laugh. "I didn't put all the symptoms together until you said you had another doctor's appointment. How far along?"  
  
"Ten, maybe twelve weeks."  
  
"Maker's breath, that's almost your whole first trimester." Bran said, suddenly reeling. He had pictured this eventuality, but differently. He thought he would find out and they would celebrate, talk about the future. But now Nori was sitting in front of him looking quite the way he'd looked when he was twenty and his first wife was pregnant.  
  
"That's what they want to find out at the next doctors appointment. It's an ultrasound. They're..." She trailed off, then turned away from him before starting again. "Going to listen to the heartbeat too." She shook a little as she said it, as if she couldn't actually believe she might hear the heartbeat of their baby.  
  
"And you wanted me there." Bran said softly, coming over to stand next to her. He wanted to comfort her, to do something, but he was at a loss. She just looked so stunned, he didn't know what to do.  
  
"If you want to be there." She said in a lost, almost sad sort of way.   
  
"Nori, of course I do. Aren't you happy?"  
  
"I don't know how I feel, honestly." She said and she looked her confusion. "We talked about this, yes, but it's different knowing it's actually going to happen. You're going to be a dad again and we're going to have a tiny, screaming bundle of poop to call our own. In just seven short months. I don't even know what's going to happen with school."   
  
She looked down at her lap, where her hands were folded and he finally touched her, reaching out a tentative hand at first. It was scaring her, she had no idea what she was doing. It occurred to him that all her life, she knew what to expect, had some idea about a situation and was smart enough to assess a lot of the outcomes. But this she had no control over, no idea what lay ahead. Bran wrapped his arms around her, touching her overheated skin.  
  
"When it didn't happen before, at first, I thought it wasn't going to happen." Nori admitted. They'd lazily tried for a baby when they'd first gotten married, when she'd been writing her book, but had no success.   
  
"I'm happy." He whispered in her ear. "This is a joy.  Babies are wonderful and I am glad we're having one."  
  
"Are you really?" She asked, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest.  
  
"Yes. You're the best wife I could possibly ask for, and you're going to be a wonderful mother when you finally wrap your head around this. I know some of what you're feeling, but believe me, you'll come around."  
  
Nori hugged him back finally, relaxing into his arms for a moment. Then she pulled herself away, swatting at his chest.  
  
" _Your breasts are bigger_. I should slap you so hard for that one." She said, mimicking his earlier statement. Bran gave a loud, huge laugh that rang around their house. They were having a baby.


End file.
